


In His Shadow

by webcomix



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: #thirsty-and-in-denial-Zelda, F/M, Pre-Calamity, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:08:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26105470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/webcomix/pseuds/webcomix
Summary: Zelda cursed the sun for forcing her to look at Link even when she wasn’t looking at him.The princess of Hyrule can recount every minute detail of her appointed knight's dashing figure just by watching his shadow. She tries to convince herself that this is from a place of distaste and scorn, not otherwise.We all know better.
Relationships: Link/Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 109





	In His Shadow

**Author's Note:**

> I got tagged in this Tumblr prompt: #Thirsty-and-in-Denial-Zelda. Nothing like public pressure (and finally, a week's worth of rest from the work-from-home grind) to boost one's creative output!
> 
> This is a semi-alternate version of the Resolve & Grief memory, including the sun's very position if we are paying close enough attention to detail. And I usually do, though I'm just obsessive like that. Enjoy!

“From here, we’ll make our way to Goron City,” Zelda said. 

She had so much more to say, praises to sing to the ancient scholars who had left this magnificent mystery for her to solve. It was apparent that they had so much more to learn. There were questions she had, both rhetorical and earnest — those divine beasts, so much that she didn’t know! Zelda sighed and lifted her chin, allowing a western breeze carrying warmth and the scent of wildflowers to caress her skin. Her heart was filled with the overwhelming joy of being here in the beautiful solitude of the open country, far from the shuttered cells of her castle.

Well, near-solitude. Zelda’s spirits plummeted once her ears caught the soft crunch of boots upon gravel overlapping her own footsteps. Her lungs swelled with sudden anger at this one thing that never failed to utterly ruin the mood.

Her appointed knight, the champion of the kingdom, hero chosen by the goddess. Master swordsman and captain of her guard. A natural prodigy and the bane of Zelda’s existence, her jailer and protector as one.

Link.

His shadow fell before her, overtaking Zelda despite maintaining the acute distance she had ordered. She clenched her jaw as she watched it, a semi-opaque ghost that darkened the grass it touched and distorted at the edges as it glided over pebbles in the road. Zelda cursed the sun for forcing her to look at Link even when she wasn’t looking at him.

The light had illuminated every distinct shape, from the flutter of his clothes to the hairs on his head. His hair was choppy, uneven, and it annoyed Zelda how carelessly he kept it tied — so much of it fell out anyway, spilling around his ears. It was so fine and light, a soft kind of gold that made her think of fields of rice ripe beneath the sun, not the glare of cold metal.

They framed his face, so infuriatingly devoid of expression. Link stared out at the world with wide eyes that pierced her with its shocking brightness. They were blue, like the surface of the lake they were now walking past, steadily sparkling with a secret, subtle current — reflecting the vast skies above, but harbouring depths that Zelda could only guess at no matter how desperately she wished to probe them.

Then, his jawline. It was still mostly hidden under a plump cheek that betrayed his youth. His skin always looked so smooth and soft, but she knew that if she touched it, she would feel the chiseled edge of freshly hewn marble. Somehow, she knew.

His neck disappeared into his tunic. But she had seen more of it, once when he didn’t notice her walking into the stables while he was currying his horse. He had stripped down to a thin undershirt that was threadbare in the sleeves, too short in the hem and with a collar so frayed that it showed his clavicle, the neat hollow just below his throat. Zelda remembered how it deepened when Link turned around and inhaled sharply, the rest of the bone defining itself as delicate and strong at the same time.

His shoulders were broad, seemingly relaxed as they silently marched along. She had seen them tensed, firm anchors for his arms when they wielded the Master Sword in combat. Her eyes now trailed downward, watching Link’s shadow swing said arms, and her mind immediately supplied the memories: the flex of his forearm as he grasped the hilt of the sword in both fists, how his biceps swelled as they lifted the weapon. It had to weigh a significant amount, but he moved with a grace and elegance that Zelda envied, not appreciated. She repeated this to herself.

Down, down some more to his chest. The shadow provided no depth, no distinction between it and the rest of Link’s torso but she had seen where the embroidery of his tunic would tighten, that which she had stitched herself. Zelda inhaled shakily as she considered the indirect touch: her fingers, the thread, the fabric, and his chest, expanding and collapsing with each breath of fresh air from the wild.

As the sun rose higher, the shadow stretched. Zelda caught the outline of Link’s belt resting low on his hips. She wondered why he kept it so loose. Perhaps it was easier to reach the arrows in his quiver. They jiggled with each step as it bumped gently against his backside. Wait, why was she thinking about his backside?

Zelda had no time to think of a proper excuse. She suddenly slammed into a spindly birch tree in front of her. The papery bark scratched against her cheek as the Sheikah Slate fell from her hands. She tripped over the tree roots and went tumbling to the ground. Zelda burned with humiliation and the lesser pain of scrapes across her palms, and when Link — all of him, his face and neck and chest and hips — rushed forward, she cried out and pushed him away.

“Don’t touch me!” She lurched to her feet, heart beating frantically against her ribcage and her mind’s inner shrieking that how dare she even allow him to affect her this way. She was a princess and a scholar and above all, far too independent and sensible to swoon over young soldiers in gold and blue. Zelda struggled to even her breathing as she backed away from him. “I did not ask for your assistance. I am perfectly capable of helping myself.”

Link lowered his eyes. He was backlit by the distant sun that blazed with a vengeful heat that seemed to scorch Zelda’s skin. It darkened his figure, rendering him a silhouette. A shadow.

Zelda wished, and not for the first time, that he could simply disappear.

“Apologies, Princess.”

But if she wanted to turn back Calamity Ganon, he was her best hope.

**Author's Note:**

> Crank the tsundere up to 11! My writing isn’t very sexy but I sure as hell know what thirst is.
> 
> Special thanks to @spicychestnut for tagging me and @intangibly_yours for spearheading the prompt itself!
> 
> I'm still trying to wrangle my novel to a sensible word count and start querying it, but hopefully this little tidbit means I can get back on the fanfic horse and finish the post-Calamity WIP. If you're still waiting on that, my sincerest apologies!! I'll be back soon, I promise.


End file.
